


Samsara

by TheMaw



Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Artistic Liberties, Disassociating due to psychological trauma, Emotional Baggage, F/M, Implied Master (Fate)/Servant Relationships, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Not Canon Compliant, Psychological Trauma, Vague Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:42:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26663131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMaw/pseuds/TheMaw
Summary: Saṃsāra is the journey of the soul, from life to death to rebirth. How easy it is to get lost on your way.A sequel to "I Can't See Myself in the Mirror"
Relationships: Jinako Carigiri/Karna | Lancer, Karna | Lancer/Original Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 6





	1. Salvation Upon The Ocean of Milk

"Your body has changed." She remarks, curiosity leaking through her honey sweet voice, "and so has your spirit."

She doesn't reply, the words lost in the fog of her own thoughts. In the spiraling _Kshira Sagara_ which spreads across the vastness of space, glittering with a billion stars. Lives and souls and existences beyond her wildest imagination. An Ocean of Milk hiding such terrible secrets. It's beautiful, yes, but it can hardly seem to hold her focus. Hold her mind in one place, one singular moment. It cannot pull her out of her internal fog.

"For the better, I suspect, though if you have merged with that _Other_ ," Kiara continues, unperturbed by her stillness, her unresponsiveness. "We might one day be enemies." Her hands are so gentle in Sayo's hair, combing out those knots and tangles, intertwining the vivid sunset locks into delicate braids. "But if such must be, than Chandra," her name is cradled on Kiara's tongue, as though it was the most delicious thing in the world. "why would we desire it any other way? If it heals your heart, fills that _emptiness_ , than we have no choice but to pursue this path."

Heat prickles at the corners of her eyes, builds up along the rim. But she refuses to cry, doesn't want to. It's her name, she wants to say, that triggered the response. That someone would use that and not the false name she has practically molded herself into. Her favorite pseudonym. It's her name, and not Kiara's words, her gentleness, her fragility. It's her name that makes her heart clench and her head fall, lips pressing into a thin line. It's her name which calls her back from the fog. Let's her see the gently turning waves, the celestial body so broad it was hard to believe it was even real.

"You have spent all your years, all your lifetimes trying to create an emptiness within you." There is a smile which filters through her words. "A terrible thing to want."

She wants to look up, to see the Beast in her truest form. Too large for the world. Too hungry, wanting, desiring. Needing, taking, consuming. She's so empty, needing to be filled up until she's overflowing. Until there is nothing more for her to take - and even then would that be enough? 

But she is a - 

"You wish to become a void, to give every part of you away until the _You_ has ceased to be. But in doing so you've allowed the Other to take root, to ground you, and complete your own cycle. You have become your own _samsara_ ," the other Beast speaks at last. They who give, and give, and give until one is so crushed by the burden of love that they will inevitably become nothing. "It's too heavy for you."

"You are not a Void," Kiara hums, draping another braid across the slope of her shoulders. Flowers are weaved all throughout the coil. Flowers and gilded rings and more jewelry than she's ever worn in her life outside of festivals. Outside of previous sojourns to the towering ancient statues which have survived the brutal hands of invaders. To vast temples filled with all the love for gods with a million names. "Though you might be all consuming."

"You don't want love." Kama huffs, as though the very word sickens her. As though the very word makes her stomach roil, and her organs clench. "You don't want to desire or be desired. But you don't want to exist, to be known and unknown all at once."

"You want to be empty. To be Emptiness. But you live on, Chandra. You live on in this world, in this moment and time. You exist in the memories of those who you have called friend and enemy. In those who you have saved and destroyed. You are Salvation."

"Even if you don't want to be, that's just what you are. A Beast of Salvation." There is an ache which nests itself in Kama's words. She clenches her hands in her galactic ones, burning hot and ice cold all at once. She bites her lip and looks at her as though all the world and beyond might weep.

"You could have everything you've ever wanted and hoped for with each Grail you possess. With each servant, a God or Demon, or Bodhisattva. They would bend the will of reality for you, to try and fill that void within you. But you have never once wanted that, now have you? It's too much for you to bear, but you will not share your burdens." Kiara leans forward, gently cupping Sayo's chin, lifting her head until she has no choice but to see. To see the great horns, and the near halo which crowns the heads of Beast III L and R. And for a moment she almost feels so small. 

And she wants to cry.

"You wanted the Sun. Not it's warmth, not its color." Kama tips her head back, her lips pulling hard to the side. Not quite a sneer, but even if she had sneered, it would have been acceptable. "You wanted to love the Sun. And maybe you don't anymore, 'cause you've grown and changed and you've seen that the world isn't so gentle. That it's not easy."

"Perhaps it is the only thing you are holding on to. But are you willing to accept letting that go?"

She has no answer. Not yet. Not now. Maybe tomorrow. 

Maybe tomorrow.


	2. Not Heartbroken

"I wanted you like I wanted the sun; just empty promises and the rain." She laughs, a sound which has lost it's ring, which has said it's last goodbye. She is the color of a sunset, the last vestiges of sunlight right before being swallowed up by the darkness. Her face carries the easiest of smiles, somehow so free when everything else is fracturing. Her voice doesn't carry past her own ears, and she is alright with that.

She's alright with that.

With moving on. 

She doesn't think she'll ever be able to completely let him go, she's far too stubborn for that. Or it's just pieces of other lives she's never lived. Of constantly lingering, dipping back in time over and over again, and holding on to pieces of him. Clutching on to what she wants but can't have. Of being so close, so close to feeling real. Feeling true. Free falling into something she cannot name.

Or doesn't want to name. 

But today, today she will let him go. 

Today she will move on. She is the setting sun, and he is too bright, the sun in the afternoon with no clouds in sight. And he is happy, hand in hand with his former Master. He shines brighter than ever, and his warmth overwhelms her. Would have burned her up like Icarus' wings. Would have scorched her, like Sangya. But she is Chaya, and she can't replace his Sangya. 

She's not strong enough.

She wanted to be close to the sun. To burn up in his warm embrace, in his brilliant gaze. To turn to ash and smoke and then nothing at all. To have known love and loss and happiness all at once. She wanted to hear the thrum of his heartbeat and know it beat for her.

But it was not to be, she knows, watching him smile and laugh, sharing his private words with his former Master. His forever Master.


	3. From a Lonely Star

They make an amazing team, however fragile. They work better together than she could, with _him_. Jinako trembles, but stands as tall and proud as she might muster, and even though Karna is in pain, battered and bruised and torn up by her own servant, he is still so bright. As though he can simply get back up and continue on. 

She doesn't want to be that, she has realized at long last. Over countless cycles. Countless redo's. The game has gone on too long, the controller is dying, and the mobile version is shit. She doesn't have it in her to write another cheat code. To install another mod.

As though life works that way. As though the answer to the game of life is found in the ones and zeros, and countless streams of data.

As though she must be all powerful, a PC stacked full of all the latest parts and pieces. Running at full speed all the time, like the very Moon Cell.

She doesn't want to be that, not for him. Not because she doesn't love him - and maybe she did. And maybe she doesn't anymore. And maybe she will miss him, and maybe she wont. And maybe she'll let them live, and maybe she won't.

She doesn't want the ones and zeros. She doesn't want the endless data. She doesn't want all the mana in the world and all the power. She's tired of keystrokes and entering a thousand command codes.

She doesn't love him enough.

"You better be..."


	4. Just a Shadow

"So his current Master's dead?" She leans back on her perch, the railing shuddering only slightly beneath the weight of her. Beside her, both Rider and Ruler share a glance at her. As though she had said something she wasn't supposed to. As though she knows more than she should ever know. But the words have already been said, and the weight of them is unbearable.

"Yes, that's exactly right." Astolfo's head sharply tilts to the side, and she almost grimaces when she hears the loud pop. But he is already laughing like a fool. Or giggling to cover up the sound. Jeanne nods once, briefly, curtly, in agreement.

"And you want me to see if I can influence him with my command seals because I have a contract with a different version of him?" Sayo shifts, adjusting her body so she might rise on the wrought iron. Stand with all the bravery of a gymnast. Or someone fearless. "By the way, it's _had_. I had a contract with a different version... anyway, what's your plan?"

"Did you let him go?"


	5. Unspoken

"I'm kind of thinking of, um, moving away..." _I think you broke my heart again._ "From all of this, I mean." 

"And you're certain?" 

"Yeah." _You knew before I did._

"Where will you go?" 

"Somewhere, anywhere." _Don't you know?_

"Will you be safe?"

"Yeah."

She tucks sunburst hair behind her ear, looking up to the evening sky. The first shooting stars already racing across the limitless darkness. It's not so bad, she thinks, smile settling across her lips. Sometimes people just move on. Sometimes people grow and change and learn they can't stay. And she can't stay.

She left that night, amidst the shooting stars. 

A fragile grail, stained like ink splattered parchment sitting where she once did. Standing where she had sat, knees drawn to her chest, her sunset locks fanning around her cheeks. But he couldn't recall if her eyes were shiny because of the light bouncing off of those golden eyes, or were they wet with goodbyes.


	6. Just Dreams in the Static Night

"We're going to have to kill her?" Rem manages to choke out, not sure why it's so hard to say. So hard to think. Because she's fought plenty of monsters before. She's defeated other Beasts before, even managing to befriend them, in the loosest sense of the word. But for once she can't be sure if this is too much for her. If this is honestly too much for them. Kadoc shifts a little, uncomfortable and so very aware of the crushing weight of the Beast's presence. "We've got no choice but to put that thing down."

"If what Assassin said is true," Wodime has to turn his gaze away from the statuesque being. "That is possibly a variant of Beast III or VI."

"Well, so what if it's fucking huge, we'll just rip that fucking crown off her head." Caenis snapped, already calling forth her lance. Divine rage in the shape of a girl made of sea glass. Anastasia only briefly glanced her way, assessing or judging, it was hard to say, but her grip upon Vy tightened ever so much. "This is not one of your Olympian Gods."

"No, it is closer to a Titan." Pollux shivered, as though the very word caused her some physical discomfort to say. Castor turned his attention only briefly to Caenis, gaze narrowing sharply.

"We are not rushing this." Rem snapped, her voice holding more authority than it had before. "Beast III alone was nearly impossible for you to take on, Caenis - and I do mean both sides of Beast III. So we're going to be reasonable about this. And this Beast is using _Halahala_ as a weapon, which can kill a God. Now, We've got a week before this Beast awakens again and furthers the incineration of this world," she continued, turning to face Team A and Mash. It was difficult, she noted, thinking of that girl as a Beast. Thinking of the person who cared for them as being a threat to them all. "So we're going to have to work together to overcome that field of poison."

And bring her back, she almost says. Almost, but refuses to.

There's no room for such sentiment.


	7. Tears of Salvation

"You've tried letting it all go before." Kama moved the brush along her finger nails, gold polish gliding across the glossy surface. "And sometimes you manage, by falling into that void. But it's unsatisfying."

"It's crushing, causing you only suffering. Each attempt and scenario. Each time you let go of friends and loved ones, family and more. But this world -"

"That you saved."

"That loves you, will always try to save you, again and again. When you are hurting, and afraid, when you are at your lowest, your weakest. You have been it's strength for so long, so it wants, desperately, to be yours."

"You can cry, you know," Kama blew gently upon her nails, all at once drying the sparkling surface. A brilliant gold that was nearly white, like the surface of a thousand suns. "Sometimes it's just better. Sometimes you just have to let it all out."

"Never forget that, Chandra. You can cry if you want to."

Hot tears spilled down her cheeks, like a river that had burst through a concrete dam. A million tears, all the water in her body rushing forth. Her hands rose to cover her mouth. To muffle the loud, painful sobs which tore their way past her lips. The near yowl of suffering. Kiara's hand, cold as the deepest ocean rubbed circles between her shoulders. And Kama's hand, warmer than a super nova, brushed her hair from her face. To think that those who consumed and were consumed could pierce her heart, tear down the castle walls surrounding her heart.

Make her feel real once more.


End file.
